Traveling While Grieving
When I was seven months old, I was crawling under the counter of our small house in Seoul, South Korea. My dad was working as a pilot in the United States Air Force and was fulfilling his assignment at Osan Air Base. My parents were in the kitchen cooking dinner, while my two-and-a-half-year-old brother, Aaron, was probably running around the house wreaking havoc. Adam, my oldest brother who was six and a half at the time, was probably watching Star Wars for the 100th time.
In an effort to keep an eye on Aaron, my dad put him on the counter. As a normal kid in his terrible twos, Aaron was constantly on the move. On the counter next to Aaron was a glass bowl filled with cut potatoes, unbeknownst to my father. As a curious two year old would normally do, Aaron proceeded to push the bowl off the counter. Mind you, this was the counter my innocent seven month old self was crawling under. As the bowl hit the floor and shattered into countless pieces, a shard of glass went right through the top of my middle finger on my left hand. Through screams and the frantic rush of dealing with three kids, my mom rushed me to the hospital, including my pathetic middle finger with a piece dangling from the top.
The Determined Finger
Everything turned out fine, the doctors sewed the tip of my finger back on, it turned black and fell off again, but grew back miraculously. Perks of being an infant, I suppose. This would turn out to be the first of many sibling injuries and fights we’d have, either involving Aaron & myself, or Adam & Aaron. You could say that Aaron suffered from middle child syndrome, and seemed like he didn’t exactly find his place in the world. Adam & I always got along, I can’t think of a single time we ever had a fight that lasted more than 5 minutes.
Aaron, on the other hand, would have screaming matches with both of us. My two brothers were forced to always share a room growing up. The first time Aaron had a room to himself was when he was 13 and Adam had gone off to college. Lucky for me, being the only girl, I always had the perk of my own space.
Sibling Relationships
Over the years, Aaron and I would have our quarrels. We’d get in fights over silly things like who could have the last chocolate chip cookie, what movie we were watching that night, who got to walk the dog, etc. Adam and Aaron would shoot me with beebee guns or paintball guns every once in a while. We’d slam doors in each other’s faces and yell at each other when it was our turn to use the dial-up internet.
Since my dad was in the Air Force, we moved every few years. We lived in Spangdahlem, Germany for about five years, and then headed to Fairbanks, Alaska when I was 11 and Aaron was 13. This was when Adam headed off the college in Montpelier, Vermont. Aaron flourished in Alaska. He loved the cold weather and the winter sports it brought. He and my dad went on snowmachining (as the locals call it) trips often, and Aaron would take the snowmachines out on frozen lakes all the time. I remember that he had a great group of friends in Alaska, and was always exploring outside or hosting LAN parties in the basement, where everyone would bring their computers over to play games. He was on the wrestling team and did really well, and just seemed like a really happy guy.
On August 22, 2017, when I was 27 & Aaron was 29,I had just gotten home from work and was at my apartment in Washington, DC. It was one of those days that I actually had inspiration to work out, so I changed into my yoga clothes, ready to get my zen on. I was getting my things together when I got a call from Adam’s wife, Kim, who was eight months pregnant. My first thought was that my nephew was on his way! In excitement I picked up the phone. That was the moment my life changed forever. She told me that Aaron had ended his own life, my mom had just found him.
What now?
In the most fucked up way, death is the thing that makes you think most about life. What in Aaron’s life brought him to the decision that this was the best course of action? He had been struggling with different mental illnesses for a while, but this ending was something none of us knew was a possibility. What was he feeling? Was this thought out? Why didn’t he talk to us about it? There are endless questions that will never be answered. In my journey through grief I ask myself “what could/should I have done” every day.
And so, travel
Ten days after my brother died, I went to Asia. It was a trip I’d had planned with one of my best friends for months. I was so incredibly confused about what to do, my parents urged me to go, my best friend was so accommodating about whichever decision I made, but a part of me was convinced it was too soon. How could I possibly enjoy the trip? The main reason I actually went was because I had no clue what else to do. After attempting to go back to work two days after the funeral, I realized I was completely useless. I figured, why not go? I can always just come back early.
And so we went. Aaron was so unconventionally smart, and incredibly technically savvy, and Japan just reminded me of that. The bullet trains that follow the schedule down to the minute, impeccably clean subway cars, and motion sensor escalators that saved energy and shut down when people weren’t using made me think of Aaron and how he would’ve loved to see them. In reality, what he probably would’ve enjoyed the most are the bun-warming, tush-cleaning, fart sound absorbing toilets, but the trains were cool too.
After Japan, we traveled to Thailand. We knew we were going to Phuket and Phi Phi Island, but we definitely didn’t know how to pronounce them. Poo-ket? Fu-ket? Fuck-it? Our immature minds realized they all sounded funny, and definitely made for great puns. Aaron loved a good pun – our family on my Dad’s side has a very dry, word-play sense of humor. However Aaron could never help laughing after he told his jokes. I can just picture him saying something along the lines of “Ah, fuck-it, let’s do it!” (even though it’s the wrong pronunciation, but he wouldn’t care) and then laughing at his own cleverness. After realizing it was actually pronounced Poo-ket, we grasped the fact we were going to Pi-Pi island, which brought even more puns, and unexpected smiles for us.
Determined to Heal
Profound grief only comes from overwhelming love. In moments of fond memories of Aaron, I go through a lot of emotions – happiness, realization that he’s gone, sadness, and guilt. It usually comes full circle to gratitude, surprisingly. The time after Aaron’s death has been the hardest of my life, and the few years before Aaron passed away were rough for everyone. He was struggling with depression, paranoia, among other things, and that affected everyone around him. However, I have countless loving, hilarious, and sweet memories of my brother. He helped shape me into the person that I am today, and I’m lucky to have grown up with two older brothers.
My middle brother ended his own life…where do we go from here? How does my family start to recover? How do I take care of myself? What would Aaron want us to do? One family trait that’s probably a blessing and a curse is the inability to be stagnant. I knew I wanted to take action in some way, so I decided to make a plan. The following summer (2018), I traveled full time for four months. It’s something I had been wanting to do for years, and every excuse I could think of previously sounded ridiculous. What was I waiting for? The right timing? The perfect travel partner? Financial security?
The Unexpected Courage
I ended up leaving when my lease at my apartment in DC was up, and went by myself. I saved enough money that I could support myself while I was gone. I had bought a domain name and secured an Instagram handle about 18 months prior with the intent of starting a travel blog. Unfortunately, I never did much with either of those, until Aaron passed away. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a gifted writer. I’m an engineer by trade and have always been more savvy with numbers.
However, having a creative outlet that was actually fun and productive gave me such a needed mental oasis. I wrote and published around 30 blog posts about my previous travels, bought a Canon T6 and a super sleek laptop, and signed up for a blogging course. I’ve written a lot about Aaron – letters to him, thoughts and feelings about his life and the effect of his suicide – but that’s been for my eyes only, as a way to heal. While publishing this, it’s been just a little over a year, and I’m finally read to talk about it – and can hopefully help others grow & heal.
Sixteen days of travel in Asia, ten days after my brother ended his own life. I never would have known that it would’ve helped as much as it did. I’ve read a few articles (like this & this) about how people have coped with grieving through traveling. However, it doesn’t seem like a huge network out there. The grieving club is one you never want to be a part of. It’s also one you never wish for anyone to join you in. But, you’re glad to have someone to talk to if you find yourself as a member. If you’re contemplating taking a trip as a coping mechanism during your grieving process – I highly recommend it. And I would love to hear about your travels.
And if you ever, ever feel yourself contemplating ending your own life – reach out. E-mail me. Call your family or friends. I can guarantee this – there are people who love you so much and would be crushed without you. And if you see signs of depression in your friends or family, be sure to reach out to them and remind them how much they mean to you.